


Worth Your While

by Mab (Mab_Browne)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Community: sentinel_thurs, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-11
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-07 11:43:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mab_Browne/pseuds/Mab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Blair are a study in contrasts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth Your While

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the Recycling the Reverse Bang challenge at Sentinel Thursday, inspired by a photomanip by La Petite Kiki featuring Blair in leather pants and Jim in a suit.

Jim examined his reflection critically and decided that, yes, he was going to do his father credit for his seventieth birthday dinner, and Jim was okay with that. He stared at his face a moment, and nodded. Yes, he was okay with that. He was even looking forward to the evening, to seeing his father and his brother, and toasting them as a family. There was just one little fly in the ointment.

And here the fly was. “Oh, man, looking good,” Blair said, his eyes meeting Jim’s in the mirror. “Edible, even.”

“I’ll do,” Jim said composedly. He turned and examined Blair from head to toe. Blair, who was dressed in an obscenely tight pair of leather pants and a loose white shirt. Blair, who couldn’t come with Jim tonight. “Channelling Jim Morrison, Chief?”

Blair.... Blair preened, there was no other word for it. “Hey, why not. It’s a leather and lace party, and me – so not a lace person.”

“I don’t know,” Jim said, putting away his other white shirt and shutting the closet door. “You could do one of those poufy Byronic poet shirts with lace on the cuffs.” He looked at Blair out of the corner of his eye. “I understand that some chicks really get off on that sort of thing.”

“Some chicks can get off on whatever they like.” Blair approached Jim, and rubbed his palm up and down Jim’s wool-clad arm. “But they’ll just have to romantically pine, man. I have all the action I can cope with right here.”

"Is that so?" Jim enquired, taking Blair in his arms and burying his nose in his hair. "So you’re only partly channelling Mr ‘I am the Lizard King’, then?"

“I bet I’m not the only one dressed like this." Blair’s voice was gently muffled. “But I bet I am the only one with a mother who actually met him. “ He lifted his head and grinned, a smug ‘I have a secret’ expression. “Sometimes I wonder if he might not be a candidate for the ineffable honour of fathering Blair Sandburg. Naomi does get this look about her when she talks about him.”

Jim loved Blair, and because he loved Blair he didn’t roll his eyes or do or say anything else to prick this grandiose fantasy of Blair’s paternity. Besides, you never did know with Naomi.

“I wish you could come with me this evening,” Jim said.

Blair rubbed his face against Jim’s shoulder. “You’ll live. This is a big occasion for Dylan and Jenny, and it’s not as if your father will miss me.”

Jim shrugged. ‘Leather and lace’ was not the theme he would have picked for an engagement party, but whatever. It was a big occasion and Blair was a friend of them both and, Jim acknowledged, his father would indeed not miss Jim’s hairy, talkative, hippy friend at his birthday celebrations. He tightened his grip around Blair.

“I’ll miss you,” he offered.

“Sweet talker.” Blair looked up at Jim, his face mischievous. “Your party will be finished before mine. Come and pick me up.”

Jim raised one eyebrow. “And why should I do that?” he enquired. “My clothes don’t exactly fit the party theme.”

“So? You wouldn’t be there for long, and the contrasts would be entertaining.”

“So I’d be there to amuse you? Looking like some uptight suit-wearing conservative among all your academic liberal friends?” Jim found himself slightly offended (a little hurt too) and he drew back from Blair.

Blair linked his fingers around Jim’s wrist, and shook it. “Looking like some suit-wearing god, man. Come on, Jim, let me have some fun here. All I want to do is show off my entirely gorgeous boyfriend to my friends.”

“Why should I pick you up?” Jim said, somewhat mollified. “You’ll have your car.”

“You could drive me home...”

”And then have to take you back over again tomorrow to pick up your damn car.”

“I’d make it worth your while.” Blair turned Jim so that they both stood looking into the mirror together. “Come on, look at us.” Blair’s reflection smiled brilliantly at him. “We’re fucking beautiful, man, and I can see a lot of possibilities for when we get home tonight. “ His brows lifted and his voice deepened. He ran his hand slowly down Jim’s back, and his smile became sly as he felt Jim shudder. “A lot of possibilities.”

Jim stared at the two of them, at Blair in his leather pants, and at himself in his immaculate pinstripe suit. He thought of Blair, shirtless, those leather pants stretched across his pretty, pretty ass, his back pressed against Jim’s chest as Jim’s hands dropped lower and lower, dipping under the tight waistband.....

“Keep that suit on and I’ll let you do whatever you like,” Blair said.

The spell was broken, although not unpleasantly so. “You let me do that anyway,” Jim told him.

“True,” Blair said, turning away from the shared vision in the mirror. His hand groped casually at Jim’s crotch in passing. “Hold that thought, Jim. Think you can do that?” He was gone down the stairs, to gather up his jacket and his keys before heading off to run errands for his friends’ party.

“Yeah, Chief,” Jim said quietly, watching Blair’s preparations for departure from over the wire that closed off the bedroom. “I think I can hold that thought.”

He walked down the stairs to the living area and got a good bye kiss before Blair hustled out the door, a man on a mission. “See you later?” Blair asked, poised hopefully in the doorway.

“Yeah, sure. You _are_ going to make it worth my while, after all.”

The door shut, but Blair’s laughter floated back as Jim straightened his cuffs.


End file.
